


Lie to Me

by bleustocking



Series: Boarding School Drama [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Boarding School, Class Issues, Consent Issues Treat, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Emotional Manipulation, Intercrural Sex, M/M, Power Dynamics, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rough Oral Sex, Underage Sex, Unreliable Narrator
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-29
Updated: 2019-11-29
Packaged: 2021-02-18 11:28:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21610168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bleustocking/pseuds/bleustocking
Summary: Charles Lewis is the best student at his school -- he works hard for his position, and he is rewarded for it. The only fly in in his ointment is James Kendall, a bright scholarship student, who is just a little bit better, just a little bit smarter, just a little bit more well-liked than Charles. Other people may consider Charles and Kendall rivals, but that's not case.Kendall is a friend of Charles, and what's more, Charles has a plan for him to bring him to hisproperplace.
Relationships: Entitled Schoolboy/Male Scholarship Student, Original Male Character/Original Male Character
Series: Boarding School Drama [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1838080
Comments: 12
Kudos: 36
Collections: Consent Issues Exchange 2019





	Lie to Me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [reine_des_corbeaux](https://archiveofourown.org/users/reine_des_corbeaux/gifts).



> Hi! I'm back again with background story referred to in Wicked Game!! Haunted my balls until I wrote it down. 
> 
> Thank you to my beta, Nonnel.

“I heard you took first today, Kendall. Congratulations.” 

Charles said this as close to Kendall’s ear as possible, but his friend didn’t flinch at it. Kendall was too stubborn for his own good -- he thought he was equal to everything Charles threw at him, the more fool he. When Kendall offered up his hand to shake, Charles took it, though he wouldn’t for most other people. Other people took too many liberties as it was. Kendall knew that. 

“I imagine your parents must be delighted with you. The scholarship, the test results -- and next year, university. It’s all there for you. They’ll be sure to treat you when you go home for Christmas,” Charles said with a half-smile. He didn’t quite remember if Kendall’s parents were dead or missionaries or both. Kendall never left the school for holidays. For the summer, he would be hired on to work as a tutor or something dire like that. 

But still, Kendall replied, dutifully, “My parents are still abroad. Well, my mother is. I’ll be staying here over the holiday, as always.” 

“Oh, of course, I forgot. That is too bad,” Charles said. His expression didn’t quite match his words, but he tried not to make his smile too large. They had the same conversation year after year. 

Then, carelessly, as if he wasn’t suggesting something entirely new, Charles said, “You should come home with me this year, instead of looking after other abandoned children such as yourself. It’s deadly dull, I won’t mislead you, but at least you can pretend to have a family.”

As ungracious as his invitation was, Charles knew that by rights of friendship he should have offered his home to Kendall long ago. But he had not, for various reasons that made sense to him. Kendall had never questioned him about it — and why, by God, would he? — but now things had changed on a fundamental level. Kendall had beaten him. Kendall was his superior in something. Kendall should be brought home, if only so he ended up regretting it in the end. 

Wonderingly, Kendall asked, “Is that what I want, Charlie?”

Charles looked at him sharply. Jamie Kendall was like that sometimes. Pure as the driven snow, but then, startlingly, surprisingly -- _not._ He wasn’t a handsome boy -- with his black hair and eyes, and olive skin, the school rumor was that he was not altogether _white_. Theirs was a liberal school, but not so much as that. Charles thought that there was something oddly compelling about Kendall, something that promised future intrigue. 

“Don’t tease me,” Charles said, and Kendall laughed under his breath. “I’ll have them book you a ticket. We’ll leave the day after tomorrow. You know what to pack, I hope?”

“I wouldn’t wish to embarrass you,” Kendall assured him. 

Charles was spared the need to reply by a near collision that occurred in front of him. He reached out and grabbed the culprit — a student named Hallow — from the tussle, and said wearily, “Why are you running inside, Hallow? Do you want a demerit that badly?”

Hallow whined about being late for his lessons or something like that, and Charles let him go with a sigh. Hallow was well-known to be a disgusting sort of troublemaker. Instead, Charles turned his ire towards Kendall. “This is your fault,” he said. “He’s in your house. You should be punishing him.”

“Ten lines, Hallow,” Kendall said uninterestedly. 

“Isn’t it ineffective for discipline if you both stand here and talk? I’m sure I’m not the only one running in the halls. _Sirs_ ,” Hallow said. He would argue that — Hallow was guaranteed to argue anything, even if it hurt him. Kendall looked like he almost admired Hallow’s daring, which made Charles all the more irritated. 

“If you linger, Kendall will make that twenty lines,” he said, smirking back at Hallow’s scowl. Hallow might be one of the richer students in the school, but he couldn’t be allowed to be left completely unchecked. At times, Charles felt as though only he bothered to do this, the only one who noticed at all that Hallow ran completely wild. 

*

“It’s funny, I’ve always imagined you a little bit like Estella from _Great Expectations_ ,” Kendall said, as they had tea in the comfortable and well-appointed sitting room. Outside, the rain pelted against the window and the wind howled, but such misery could be ignored as long as the fire roared in the grate. “But this is much more cheery than Satis House.” 

They had arrived too late in the evening to do anything but change and have tea. Mrs. Williams, the housekeeper, had brought tea and slices of seed-cake. She gave Charlie a reproachful look, though he ignored it. He had telegraphed ahead, saying he would bring a guest. If they had traveled faster than the message -- well, that was hard to believe. 

Kendall looked at him, waiting for a response. 

“I should take offense,” Charles said, kicking Kendall’s foot out of his way as he reached for another slice of cake. “I have never respected anyone older than forty, for a start.” 

“A shocking admission!” Kendall said. “Not even your parents? I didn’t see them when we arrived, though I fixed my hair upon your advice.” 

“I noticed. They aren’t here, of course.” Charles smiled. “They never are. I should have mentioned, my parents are unaccountably not fond of this cliffside house, teetering over the ocean. They prefer London society.” 

Kendall’s eyes widened in disbelief. “You’ve lied to me again. Charlie! Why do you do this? What advantage does it bring you?” 

“Would you rather have spent Christmas at school? You already said it was comfortable.” 

Kendall leaned back with a sigh. “Of course I don’t mind it. But you didn’t need to mislead me. I would’ve come even if you told me the truth. You’re a bewildering person, Lewis.” 

“Your tea’s getting cold. Drink up.” 

Kendall pushed his teacup aside. “I’m not thirsty anymore.” 

“Tomorrow, I’ll show you the cliffs along the sea where I played as a child,” Charles said, letting a little eagerness slip into his voice. “I hope you will like it as much as I did then.” 

“I’m sure I will. The country looked beautiful from the train,” said Kendall. “I’m so used to the school, or to the city, you know -- the sea is so startling when it appears. I’m quite tired, I feel it.” 

“Of course. I’ll show you to your room, if you’d like,” Charles said, getting up. “I’ve put you in my older brother’s room. It affords a good view of the harbor -- on the days when the fog clears, anyway.” 

“Is he away in university? Or is he in the city as well?” 

“Oh no, he’s dead,” Charles said. “The less said about that, the better.” At Kendall’s dismayed look, he laughed. “It’s a joke, Kendall. He died in a sailing accident last year. Left my mother quite distraught, the poor thing. That’s why she couldn’t stand to be here this year for Christmas.” 

“I don’t see how that’s really a joke, Charlie…” 

“Oh, well, I told you a lot more, I didn’t I?” Charles paused for a moment and said contemplatively, “His name was James too. You’ll like his room. It is very comfortable.” 

*

“Don’t walk too close to the edge,” Charles warned Kendall the next day. “That’s what every tourist does, and every year, some fool falls off and dies. It’s a black mark against the area.” 

“Maybe they should mark the paths better,” Kendall said, a little testily. 

“And ruin the natural beauty of the area?” Charles replied. “How dare you suggest such a thing! No. You’ve been warned. Anything that happens now can only be your own fault. Now, follow me.” 

He walked confidently down a narrow path that morphed into a steep stairwell down the cliff. It was a narrow and treacherous path, flanked on one side by waving sea-grass and the other by the open air. He glanced backward to see if Kendall had lost his footing, but his friend was still there --gazing out to sea with a look of wonder in his eyes. 

“If I pushed you off here, imagine what a splash you’d make,” Charles said suddenly. 

“Another joke?” Kendall said wearily. “I think you should stop. Humor isn’t your forte.” 

“There’s bags under your eyes. Didn’t you sleep last night?”

“Not well. I’m too used to sleeping at school, I suppose. A house feels strange to me now.” 

“You were at a different school before, weren’t you?” Charles said, turning back and descend again. “What happened there?” 

“Oh, politics. Wearisome, really. Even if you have nothing, people will still envy you. Isn’t that strange?” 

“Yes,” Charles echoed, his eyes scanning the rock-strewn beach for interesting objects to point out to Kendall. There was nothing, except an old row-boat that had been rotting there for as long as he could remember. “People never want what’s best for others. Only themselves.” 

Kendall reached out and touched Charles’ shoulder. Charles took especial care not to flinch at his touch, as he wanted to.

“I am sorry to hear about your brother. It only happened last year, and you never said a word of it to anyone?” 

“Who was there to tell, if not you? Mattock?” Charles laughed. “Don’t look so woebegone. He was older than I and -- rough with me. But he was my brother, so of course I miss him.” This, Charles said flatly; he was lying and Kendall knew it.

“It’s all right if you don’t,” Kendall said offhandedly. “We’re young, aren’t we? It’s different for us. We haven’t time for sentiment.”

“Yes,” Charles agreed. “We can’t dwell on the past. Come on, I’ll show you everything.”

That night, he waited in bed and listened for the sounds of Kendall down the hallway. Outside his window, the wind howled and moaned. He could imagine faces pressed up against the glass, watching him. When Kendall opened the door, he almost uttered a sigh of relief. 

Instead, he reached out and turned off the lamp. They kissed in the dark. 

It was almost perfect.

*

They returned to school in the new year with a new perspective on everything. Charles thought that, for the first time in his life, he was actually quite -- looking forward to being at school. They only had a year and a half left of it, and then -- who knew what? He wasn’t sentimental. Nothing lasted, especially when one was seventeen. 

But -- 

“Charlie,” Kendall said, strolling into his room in the middle of the afternoon. There was a sparkle of mischief in his eye that Charles could not trust. “What are you doing this afternoon?” 

“Work,” Charles replied, going back to his essay, which he had almost entirely abandoned working on. He set it aside with a sigh. “What is it? Are the natives acting restive?” 

“No, it’s all quiet on that front. I just --” Kendall glanced over to Charles’ open door. “I keep thinking of the time at your house. How pleasant it was.” 

“Oh?” Charles got up from his desk and went over and closed the door, locked it. “I wouldn’t call my house pleasant. Haunted, perhaps. Filled with bad memories. About to fall into the sea, maybe. Next time, I’ll take you to my parents’ house in town. It’s a normal place.”

“You can’t fault the privacy,” Kendall said, looking down. His face was pink and he looked quite virginal and sweet. Which was why Charles felt this unaccountable feeling of possession run through him. He stepped forward and kissed Kendall hard against the lips. 

When they moved away, Charles said, ruefully, “It is too bad that we don’t share a room anymore. This would be easier then.”

“Yes,” Kendall said, biting down on his lower lip. “But you know this sort of thing is against the rules —”

Charles rolled his eyes. “Don’t be a child, Jamie. Everyone knows what happens in schools like this. Just as long as you straighten up as an adult, no one will care. It’s just youthful indiscretion, that’s all.”

“Is it?” Kendall said, his expression shifting a little. 

“This is just the world we live in,” Charles said, leaning in for another kiss, but Kendall was still. “It’s not like we’re lovers or anything. We couldn’t be anything like that.”

“No,” Kendall said, “I was foolish to think —”

“No! Imagine, trying to live as if you _were_. You would be harassed constantly, always open to blackmail, to legal action. Nothing you’ve worked so hard for would be available to you — not to you, dear. None of your friends would know you.”

“Not even you?”

“Perhaps I’d pay your legal fees once or twice, but I couldn’t — you know.”

“Yes. You’re so practical, Lewis.”

Charles kissed him and pressed against him. “You’ve made me feel less than practical. Jamie. Do something.”

Kendall looked at him in disbelief. “After this conversation, you can’t possibly …”

“Yes, I’ve been cooped up all day — please.” Charles put his hand on Kendall’s shoulder and pressed him gently towards the floor. Kendall went down jerkily, like a marionette whose strings had been cut. But when he was presented with Charles’ cock, he looked up, faintly puzzled.

“Open your mouth, dear,” Charles said.

“You can’t be serious with this,” Kendall said with a sneer. 

“Don’t you want to please me, your best friend?”

“Is this what you think best friends do to each other?”

“Jamie, we’ve already done worse,” was Charles’ last gambit. Kendall scowled and opened his mouth. He didn’t pull back his teeth, and Charles nearly did himself an injury in his eagerness, when he shoved his cock into Kendall’s mouth.

He grabbed hold of Kendall’s smooth, black hair and gripped it tight. He thrust into Kendall’s mouth a few more times, but not enough to come. When he pulled out, Kendall wiped his face with his sleeve and gave him a look of pure contempt.

*

After that, Kendall took pains to avoid him, and that was acceptable to Charles for a variety of reasons. He knew, of course, if he had simply lied in the first place — if he had assured Kendall that he would stand beside him against the disapproval of society or some such nonsense — none of the rest of it would have happened. Kendall would have happily fallen into his arms as he had done before, and they would be enjoying themselves at this moment. 

But no — Charles had been been honest, and so he was being punished. It was monstrously unfair, but such was the way of the world. But he let it happen. He had his schoolwork to do, his duties as a prefect. He did not need more distractions, he told himself. 

Kendall was busy too, he knew. The school was in the midst of their annual theatrical performance — _Hamlet_ , this year — and Charles thought a scholarship student, who was also a prefect and top of his class, should hardly be involved in all of that. But obviously, Kendall disagreed. He was cast as Laertes. 

On the other hand, Hallow had been cast as Ophelia, and his dismay at the news was almost worth everything else. He hasn’t been cast for acting talent — though he could rattle off lines easily enough, for someone who struggled to read them — but because it was agreed by everyone that he looked the most charming in one of the two ancient dresses that made up the women’s costumes in the theater department.

Charles would watch the rehearsals while he worked on other things. The only scenes he would bother to watch were those involving Laertes.

And when Laertes was finally dying, Charles left his seat and went backstage. 

*

“I’m sure this is a real skull,” Charles said as soon as Kendall came into the dressing room. “A woman, I think, from the shape of it.” He had been tossing it in gentle circles in the air as he waited for Kendall in the dressing room, the hot air from the furnace that was right next to it blowing against his hair. 

Kendall closed the door behind him and leaned against it. He closed his eyes briefly, as if he was too tired for what was about to happen. Charles smirked at him. Kendall always did lack stamina.

“Don’t drop it. It’s our only prop skull.”

“I won’t,” Charles said. And to demonstrate his good faith, he set it down on the makeup table. 

“Listen, I want to apologize for my behavior before. I was an ass.”

Kendall turned away from him and began to undress. “Oh, that? I haven’t thought of it since you said it. You were right, I was being naive.” 

Charles reached for Kendall’s doublet. “Let me help you take that off.” 

“No need. They’ll want this room soon.” 

“Jamie --” Charles said and grasped him by the shoulder, spun him around. “Don’t act like a coy miss. I’ve apologized. What more do you want? Me crawling on the floor, begging for your forgiveness?” 

“Would you do that?”

“Not for this.” Charles kissed Kendall’s shoulder. “Wouldn’t you hold out for more?” 

“You assume there’s going to be more?” 

“Who else could you do this with, in this awful place? Hallow? He’s a shallow little idiot.” 

“How do you know he’s shallow?” 

“Well, I’ve spoken to him before, so I do know.” 

“I wouldn’t pursue someone in my House, not someone I’ve power over like Hallow. It would be immoral, wouldn’t it?” 

Charles rolled his eyes. Nothing could make him shrivel up more than that word, and he thought Kendall knew that well enough. He sat down on the small stool in front of the makeup table, with a huff of frustration, and watched as Kendall tried to take off his tights without tearing them.

“Why do we wear these? They’re impossible,” Kendall said. “I hate it, all of it.” 

“You’re the one who wanted to be in the play. I thought it was ridiculous with everything else you have to do,” Charles said, putting his hand on his chin. “You didn’t consult me, of course.” 

“ _You_ weren’t talking to me,” Kendall said. “And I don’t need to consult with you on what I do -- really, Charlie, you ask too much.” 

“I don’t,” Charles said. He was aware of a petulant note in his voice. “I just want what I’m supposed to have. What I’m owed.”

“And what do I owe you?”

Charles pulled Kendall down so they were face to face. “We go together so well, you and I. I’ve never made you feel like you were less than I was, have I? You’ve always impressed me, Jamie. Every time someone tried to crush you, I’ve defended you. I have. Do you really hate me because I spoke without thinking some time ago?”

Kendall’s resolve wavered. Kneeling between Charles’ open thighs, half undressed, he wanted it too. Charles could feel it. Their hearts were beating in tandem with each other. Whatever was coming out of their mouths, their bodies were in agreement. 

“No,” Kendall muttered. 

Charles kissed him hard and then caressed his cheek.

“Good boy,” he murmured. “You’re always so quick. If you’d been born wealthy and white as well, could you imagine what a terror you’d be?”

Kendall looked at him. “What do you mean?”

“It’s just a rumor I hear — why you left your last school. I don’t believe it, of course.”

“It sounds like you do.”

“Jamie, I love you, whatever you are. It doesn’t matter to me at all.” Charles reached into his pocket and took out a tin of pomade. Gently, he kissed Kendall’s cheek and then his lips. “I want you so badly. Just like it was at home.”

Kendall looked him. His eyes were so dark and so large, and in the fitful light, the expression was difficult to read.

Charles got up from the stool and offered Kendall his hand. Kendall took it and pulled himself up. The rest of Kendall’s costume was taken off and folded away — neatly, there was no need to be rough with it — but Charles saw no reason to undress. He unbuttoned his trousers and pulled them down to his knees. He put his arm around Kendall’s waist and squeezed it.

“I’d love to fuck you against the door,” he said, breathlessly. “Anyone could come in and ask what you were doing with my cock inside of you.”

“I locked the door as soon as I saw you,” Kendall muttered. His face was flushed under the tan of his skin. Charles grinned and pressed his teeth against Kendall’s neck and felt his pulse.

Kendall made a noise of irritation. “Stop that. Stop -- wasting time, Lewis.” 

“I’ll have to prepare you or else you’ll bleed,” Charles said. “You would _hate_ that.”

“Why do you hate me so much?” Kendall asked this softly, almost swallowed up in the sound of their loud breathing, in such close quarters.

“I don’t hate you. It’s the opposite. Didn’t I say so?” 

Kendall looked at him. There was something truly wounded in his eyes. “You’re a liar, Lewis.” 

Charles rolled his eyes and unscrewed the top of the jar of pomade. Taking a glob of it on his fingers, he let it melt with his body heat. He watched Kendall avidly, but his body felt stiff against Charles. 

“Why don’t you relax a little? You’ll tear something otherwise.”

Kendall’s sharp reply was interrupted by a knock at the door. It was Sefton, who had come to ask if Kendall could help with the set. 

“Do you know where Lewis is? One of the French masters is looking for him.”

“I haven’t seen him,” Kendall said as Charles pressed a few resentful kisses on his neck. He wanted to bite, but he knew better than to do so now. Kendall would probably deck him if he tried. 

When Sefton left, Kendall pushed him away with a grunt.

“You’re a lunatic, Lewis. You think you own me or something, and you don’t. I don’t ever want this happening again. Get out.” 

Kendall didn’t look at him as Charles went.

*

Later, Charles reflected that he wasn’t particularly angry at Kendall’s rejection — that was always to be expected — but rather, he found that he still wanted Kendall even if he couldn’t have him. That couldn't be borne. 

When Charles had been very young, his mother had told him that greed would be his downfall. He no longer remembered what had prompted this prophecy — perhaps he had taken something that belonged to his brother, or cried when he had been denied his favorite dinner. 

“You, Charlie, love too much and too greedily. Sometimes that sort of love isn’t love at all. You must watch out, young man.”

Then she laughed and went to get a drink. There was never any further discussion of the faults of Charles' personality. 

*

Another month passed before Charles came into Kendall’s room with a letter that they were both to look over and sign. He saw that Kendall was in the midst of giving Hallow three stripes across the palm, for smoking on school grounds — and so he waited, leaning against Kendall’s desk, until it was over before he spoke.

“Jennings wants you to sign this,” he said when Kendall finally looked at him. Hallow still lingered at the door, clearly interested in what was happening. “Hallow, don’t you have work to do?”

“Not especially, sir,” said Hallow.

“Well, you can do nothing in your room,” Charles said. “Get out.”

Hallow looked at Kendall for confirmation.

“Run along, Hallow. For God’s sake, don’t let me catch you smoking anymore; it’s such a bother.”

“Yes, sir.”

When the door closed behind him, Charles asked, “Do you still have his cigarettes?”

Kendall raised his brows. “Of course I turned them over to the headmaster to dispose of. A few may have fallen out into my desk drawer, accidentally.”

Charles grinned and pulled out one of the drawers and found two cigarettes — a brand far too good for schoolboys and yet not good enough for gentlemen, and moreover, gold-tipped and thus vulgar — and a box of matches. They opened a window and hung out of it to smoke, letting the damp air filter into the room. 

They didn’t speak or look at each other. The evening sky, already dark with rain, was only livened by a streak of dark orange, bleeding into red, across the horizon. 

“I hate this place,” Charles said casually. “I’ve been an inmate here for five years and I can’t wait to leave.” 

“This place was my refuge,” Kendall said moodily. “I thought I could make everything happen here.” 

Charles gave him a sideways glance. “Can’t you?” 

A sudden breeze blew in, and Kendall dropped his cigarette into the bushes below. He swore under his breath and seemed ready to go down and retrieve it. Charles placed a restraining hand on his arm. 

“What are you doing?” 

“What if one of the groundskeepers finds it? It’s right under my window, I’d be blamed for certain.” 

“In this rain? It’ll turn into mush before morning. Besides, I’ll vouch for you,” Charles said with a laugh. “Here, let me share.” He took hold of Kendall’s chin and moved forward, until they were face to face. He sucked in a deep breath of his cigarette and blew the smoke into Kendall’s open mouth. 

Kendall’s eyes were dark, and when Charles kissed him, he didn’t move away and didn’t fight against it. And when Charles led him to his bed. It almost bothered him, how compliant Kendall was being now. Had he given up on fighting? Why? Had the rumors finally done their job? 

How sad that soft whispers could do what physical violence couldn’t. Disheartening, even. They were truly moving from the world of boys into the world of men, he supposed. 

When he took off his clothes, he shivered. Chillingborough was well-named. They never bothered heating any of the rooms besides the headmaster’s quarters. The smoky little fireplaces that the richer boys had in their rooms hardly helped. How offended some parents would be if they knew how much their little darlings suffered from the cold! 

He pulled the scratchy blanket over them and kissed Kendall again, and then wrestled him down. He whispered earnestly that he loved him, that he would never want to lose him. All lies, of course. 

And then Kendall flipped him over and spread him out -- looked at him with a mixture of pity and desire. He spat into his hands and then spread that on the insides of Charles’ thighs. “Is this what you wanted, Charlie? This whole time?” 

“Yes,” Charles muttered, guiding Kendall’s cock so it would press itself, hot and not quite wet enough, in between his thighs. “I wanted you ever since I first saw you. I had to make you mine.” 

Kendall slapped him, so hard that Charles felt his ears ring. “I’ve hated you since then. Supercilious bastard. Always made sure I knew how low I was, how common. Coming here on my own merits, instead of my parents’ money, how horrible of me.” 

He thrust into Charles, who groaned and clutched at his back and pushed the blanket to the floor. Charles wished Kendall could go deep, thrust inside, even if he hadn’t prepared for it, if he would hurt afterwards. He wasn’t in his right mind, of course, but what did it matter? He was completely, deliriously happy. 

When Kendall came across his thighs, he swiped the come across Charles’ face. Charles licked at it eagerly, closing his eyes for a moment, to better appreciate it. Savor it. He didn’t need Kendall to tell him that this would be the last time they would ever do this. It went without saying. 

*

A few nights afterward, Charles was walking back to his room after the last bed check when he saw the reflections of torchlights outside. Someone -- or several someones -- had snuck out. Several things occurred to him at once. Were the gates unlocked? In some schools, it was possible to climb the fence, but not here. The gates had to be unlocked for someone to come and go during the night. 

He went off, taking a torch and a jumper with him. He didn’t know what he would say if he ran into another person -- perhaps the truth, that he suspected some mischief? 

At the entrance of the school, he saw a scene that he took as a godsend: young Hallow, that irritant, that stupid rascal, that troublemaker, who had obviously snuck away to town with a group of other boys, and come back and fallen asleep against the gate, surrounded by bottles of cider. He looked like he was going to wake at any moment and go through the gates. 

Charles had to think fast. He closed the gate and locked it. 

Then he turned around and walked away, whistling under his breath. 

*

The resulting scandal was disproportionate and absurd, but completely unsurprising. Whatever Hallow’s sins, his parents were the most sickeningly wealthy of all the current donors of the school. There was no reason to expect that he would face expulsion, or truly, any real punishment at all. 

But there had to be some scapegoat, someone to suffer for the school’s sudden, terrible ill-fame. Why not the person who was responsible for Hallow’s moral character to begin with, the head of his House? 

It all had worked far better than Charles could have ever imagined. He went through his days like he was in a dream. In fact, for those who did not know him, it could have seemed like he was incredibly cast down at the news of Kendall’s expulsion -- and truly, it was shocking. Kendall had been such a golden boy otherwise, the one student all the masters could point to as truly being above the fray. And to think -- the idol had clay feet! 

His replacement was stupid and silent and easily cowed. Stupid. Useless. Not the same. 

He did not bother saying goodbye to Kendall when he went. The entire school was present at the time, anyway. The fickle children had finally decided that they loved Kendall, now that he was leaving them. 

A year later, Charles saw Kendall again. It was different, this time. There was no need for words exchanged between them, this time. They were strangers and now would always be. 

**Author's Note:**

> Kendall's backstory, hinted in the story itself, is based on [Merle Oberon](https://www.vanityfair.com/hollywood/2017/07/last-tycoon-jennifer-beals-merle-oberon). I think Kendall goes into the world of ~ theater ~ after his expulsion, anyway, so yeah. 
> 
> Chillingborough is borrowed from _Jewel in the Crown_ because it does seem like the fucking coldest school in all of fiction. I mean, a character played by Charles Dance went there. Granted, it was hot young Charles Dance, but still. 
> 
> What do you think happens to Charles, Julian and Kendall? I have my ideas, but I'd love to hear yours. ~~This is all backstory for a murder mystery for sure.~~


End file.
